


Blind Faith

by silsecri



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2590541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silsecri/pseuds/silsecri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith thinks about her life up to now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Re-post of an old story for archiving purposes.
> 
> A/N: Thanks to LiquidNight for being my beta for this story.  
> I've used some dialogue from the show 'Angel', it's not mine, don't sue.

**Blind Faith**  
by Lyra

The lights go out and darkness surrounds me. I’m used to it, I’ve been it.

Everyone here talks about how much bigger the walls seem than they really are… How the bars on their windows make them feel like they’re in a mouse trap… how the solitary cells remind them they’re tiny and hopeless…

They don’t realise how lucky they are. The only thing they have to fight is the cement walls around us.

I have to fight myself.

Because I know how small those walls really are. Because I know how weak the bars feel inside my fists. Because I know the only cell that can hold me is inside my head.

Because I know they can’t keep me here if I decide to go.

Because there’s nothing I want more than disappear.

How much easier would have been everything if Angel had killed me?

I dream of that moment almost every night. It felt good to be hit. It felt right to be hurt. How much damage have I caused? Isn’t it fitting to have that pain come back to me? Isn’t that what I deserve?

What did he see in me that made him spare me? Sometimes, in my dreams, when I look into the mirror it is Angelus that stares back at me. Is that what Angel saw? Am I an attempt to redeem himself?

I know he cares about what happens to me. Which is not the same as caring about me. But I guess after all I’ve done I’m lucky he can even give me that.

And then there are the times when my dreams take me further back. When my mind flaunts my mistakes on my face. And this voice in my head laughs at me because somewhere in my soul a tiny part of Angel’s hope has found a home. He really thinks I can make amends for the past and come out the winner on the other side. He needs to think I can make up for a few months of darkness because if I can’t… well, what does that say about him?

Maybe that’s why I try not to sleep sometimes. Like today. I’ve felt on the edge the whole day. And thinking is better than dreaming. At least I have some control over my thoughts.

I think I’m most sorry for what I did to Angel. And for what that made him do. I couldn’t see past my own hurt then. I didn’t care about the consequences of my actions because, in my mind, there weren’t any. What I did made me feel good. It made me feel like I belonged.

Angel says I lost my path along the way. But he’s wrong. I never found my path at all. I never got a family to guide me, or friends to shelter me from the family I didn’t have. I’ve always been a bad girl without actually being bad. But now I am. I never felt like I had a place in my life. And not even my calling changed that. They really should be more careful with whom they choose…

The Slayer.

The Chosen One. Or Two.

The Doomed.

The second choice.

I’m a second-hand slayer.

That’s a bitter pill to swallow.

The only time I get something for me, mine, supposed to bring meaning to my life… and it’s not really mine. This was supposed to be my time. I would shine brighter than any other slayer, maybe even for a shorter time. But my time would be mine. And when it was over I’d leave a legacy behind.

But apparently someone forgot to tell Buffy that. Someone failed to remind her that once you die you have to stay dead. And now look at me. She broke the rules, she changed the unspoken laws… and I’m the one that got the shortest stick.

Buffy is the Slayer.

And I’m a mere replacement. You need a distraction? Put me in there while the real deal slays evil from behind.

I don’t know, maybe they knew. Maybe they already knew who they were giving this power to… maybe this is my path, maybe this is part of the slayer in me.

I’m not sure if I like where this is going. Like there’s a predestined way for me, and I’m just following it. They’re The Powers That Be after all, they made me a Slayer… but I’m still me, right? I still have my free will, it was my choices that brought me here.

I can still hear Angel’s words… “Where are you gonna go? Back out in that darkness? I once told you that you didn't have to go out in that darkness. Remember? That it was your choice. Well, you chose. You thought that you could just touch it. That you'd be okay. Five by five, right, Faith? But it swallowed you whole. So tell me, how did you like it?”

He tried to help me from the start. But I didn’t listen. It was me who walked into the darkness. So now I have to learn to be here, that way maybe I can go out without forgetting. I don’t want a tabula rasa. I need to keep that darkness within, so I can fight it every day. Because that darkness is me now and I don’t want to forget that, ever.

I guess I understand now a little better all that brooding Angel does. All these hours of silence are hard, thinking… All these little bitches that surround me here only see me as a chance. A chance to make a name for themselves. I don’t even know how it got out that I’m a murderer, or why does that make me special, it’s not like I’m the only one. But it’s like they can see something in me that I don’t… or maybe I do. And I could kill them in a heartbeat, just as easily as I can get out of here.

The unwanted sleepless nights are the worst. The nights I do want to sleep and can’t. When all I can do is lay in my bunk hearing whispers in the silence around me, tempting me, trying to lure me out, enticing me with the promise of freedom. I can hear myself pleading with Angel.

_“I'm not gonna make it through the next ten minutes.”_

_"So make it through the next five, the next minute.”_ He says.

_"I don't think I can.”_

_"Yes, you can.”_ He sounds so sure.

_"God, it hurts. I hate that it hurts like this.”_

_"Oh well, it's supposed to hurt. All that pain, all that suffering you caused is coming back on you. Feel it! Deal with it! Then maybe you've got a shot at being free.”_

That’s what gives me the strength to fight temptation. It wouldn’t be the kind of freedom I seek. I’d be outside, able to do whatever I want. But I wouldn’t be free. Not inside.

So I lay here in my bunk and think about what my redemption is supposed to be like. And I don’t think the right way to go is taking Buffy as a model. I’m not her, I can never be like her. We’re too different. I would try, time and again, and I would fail every time. These feelings are in me and no matter how hard I willed them away they won’t disappear.

Maybe I can take these feelings and instincts, scary as they are, and do something useful with them. Maybe now I’d know how to help someone desperate the way Angel knew how to help me. He knew because he’s been there. Well, so have I. I’ve been at my lowest and if I can pull through maybe it’ll help me help others. So maybe I can fight myself inside, evil outside, and help lost souls not to walk into the darkness… That would feel good.

It’s not like the world needs a Slayer. They have Buffy. I can have myself. Maybe help Angel. I think being with him would help both of us. I can’t really have a normal life with normal friends. I don’t know how Buffy managed. But then she didn’t really. Look at her friends now. Out of the whole lot Xander is the only normal one left. Maybe that’s another trait common to Slayers, we need out-of-the-ordinary people around us to feel like we belong. Because, really, what do we have in common with normal people?

I guess Buffy had the right idea when she fell for Angel. Who better to understand the tortured soul of a Slayer than a supernatural creature who’s never going to be normal either. Maybe a vampire was not the ideal choice, especially with that curse of his, but she has more in common with Angel than she ever had with that Riley guy. He looked like a nice boy, but that’s not what we need, whether she wants to see it or not.

I can’t believe I’m thinking about guys, where did that come from? I’m not going to have someone, not now, probably not ever…

It’s going to be a lonely life for me. I can feel it. See, that’s another reason why I think I should stick with Angel. At least he’ll still be around the day I make it out of here.

At first I thought my interest in Angel was based on his relationship with Buffy, you know, take another thing that belonged to her. When you’re walking that road where all you can see and feel is self-pity and self-loathing, the woe-is-me-the-world-owes-me road, the higher your fixation goes the hardest will the fall be. And damn if I didn’t break every bone in my body, and even worse, every joint in my soul.

When I woke up from that coma and everything that had happened sunk I thought there was no way I’d ever see the light again, so digging my own grave deeper seemed like the only way to go. And the Mayor made it so easy. He always made what I felt look right. For a long time I was convinced he was the only ‘person’ who took the time to look at me and ‘see’ me. At least that’s how it felt. Now I’m thinking maybe he didn’t really see me either, I was just a Slayer he could use.

Now I realise that probably that only ‘person’ who saw me wasn’t the Mayor but Angel. I don’t think I ever fooled him. I guess the saying rings true: “Takes one to know one.”

No, it wasn’t because he was Buffy’s. Oh I did want to take everything she had. And not because I wanted those things for me. It was because I didn’t want her to have them. That’s why I don’t think having Buffy as a model can help me. I’ve never seen myself being happy in her place. Not even when I ‘was’ her. Yes, it was fun to pretend, but had I succeed in that ruse, ‘Buffy’ would have made a 180 turn. Even if I had managed to find the good path.

Angel was the only part of her life I envied for itself and not because of what he was to her.

To have someone to share yourself, being what we are, and have them understand, to have someone whose only focus is you… that’s hard to find. And hard is the understatement of the year.

I don’t love Angel. But I think I’d like to have someone like him. Aren’t I asking for a miracle? Where am I going to find someone for me? Someone who can see the darkness in me and still sees me for myself, not the monster everyone seems to think I am. I need to find a guy who has faced a darkness of his own and survived. I need anything but a normal, human, boring guy.

I need an Angel of my own.

It’s been almost three years since I stepped into this path. And I remember every tiny bit of wisdom Angel has given me. He came to see me from time to time at first. It made me feel good, like he was with me every step of the way. But it’s been a long while since his last visit and… I know there are dark times ahead, waiting for me.

I can feel it pulsing through my veins with every heartbeat. The darkness trying to rise. My time to strengthen my will is coming to an end. And I don’t know if I’m ready to face the world yet.

What if every promise I’ve made to myself, every small step in the right direction I’ve managed to make disappears the moment I step out of my prison? What if I can’t keep the hold on myself when the gates open?

My prophetic dreams have returned. They’ve been dormant for years, as if they knew I couldn’t help. But they’re back now with a vengeance. I’ve never liked them, they bring oh so bad news. But what I hate the most is that they place me halfway between evil and good with no real direction in mind.

What will happen when I open my eyes?

Light enters through the bars in my window and I realize I’ve made it through another night. The routine will take me through another day. Shower, breakfast, exercise outdoors…

The guard interrupts my routine. “Lehane, you have a visitor.”

Maybe Angel’s finally back. I follow the guard down the corridors towards the visiting hall expecting to see Angel’s broad shoulders and back, sitting at one of the booths. But I don’t. It takes me a while to recognise the figure sitting in the booth that we’ve been assigned. A rough, careless appearance makes him look different. And he is the last person I expected to see sitting there. Maybe second last, I can’t see Buffy coming to visit any century soon.

“Hello, Faith.”

“Wesley.”


End file.
